


Managing Subspecies

by sunryder



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, F/M, Guide jim, M/M, Not a Sentinel Spock, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunryder/pseuds/sunryder
Summary: “While I find you aesthetically and psionically appealing, I am aware enough of your subspecies to know that you are incapable of forming any sort of lasting bond outside of Terra-strain Humans. While I appreciate your conversation and believe we would find physical interaction and intercourse mutually gratifying, I have no inclination to indulge in the Human custom of a one-night stand.”“How about one lifetime? Want to indulge in that?”“No, I do not believe that even that would be sufficient.”





	1. Chapter 1

As much as Jim wanted to drop his forehead to the bar beside Bones and drink himself into into oblivion with the world’s best partner for encouraging alcoholism, he was a grown ass man, not a child. He was trying to convince the Center that he didn’t need a Sentinel babysitter to keep psionically safe while he was out on a five-year mission, and getting wasted the second things didn’t go his way wasn’t going to prove his point. Naively, he’d thought his three-year stint on the _Farragut_ had been enough to prove to the Center that he didn’t need a minder when he was out doing his damn job, but the Center got to be fickle and no one on the entire planet wanted to call them on it.

“I take it your meeting didn’t go that well?” Bones asked, not bothering to offer to share his drink.

“They offered their full support behind my posting to the _Enterprise_ , with a few stipulations.”

“And what would those be?”

Jim rolled his head over on the thankfully clean countertop just enough to look up at Bones. “You have to stay on as my doctor and if you leave the _Enterprise_ or get incapacitated then I have to be treated by someone else with your level of experience. If that’s unavailable, I come back to Earth.”

Bones looked irritated at how reasonable the demands were. “There’s not many people in the Fleet with my level of experience with Guides, and frankly the interfering bastards should be more worried about you getting treated by someone who’s got less experience with your allergies than I do, but that’s not bad.”

“It’s not. And them wanting a live chat any time we can get a connection isn’t too bad either.”

“What’s the problem then?” Pike asked. And really, for a guy who psionic abilities were supposedly off the charts, Jim couldn’t understand how Pike could sneak up on him like that. The man popped up between them at the bar, waving the bartender away with a smile so charming the lady nearly tripped over her own two feet at the sight of it.  

When Jim had complained about Pike sneakiness to some of the other Guides – and that for as much as Jim liked sex it grossed him the hell out to see Pike flirting with people – they had theorized that Jim could pick up on the unadulterated, paternal love Chris had for him. It meant that psionically Jim knew Pike was safe, so he didn’t try and stop himself when the truth came spilling out. “They want me to bond, Chris.”

Pike stiffened like he was ready to turn the _Enterprise_ ’s guns on the Center. “That shit’s illegal, Jim.”

Jim psionically soothed him with the mental equivalent of running his fingers through Pike’s hair before he could run off and blow Starfleet’s relationship with the Center all to hell along with his career. “Not a full bond, just like training wheels.”

“You hated that shit when you were a teenager and actually needed it, why would they think you need it now?”

“It’s a five year mission to the ass end of uncharted space, Chris,” Bones interrupted. “I’ve been going over everyone on the crew manifest and seeing if any of them might be good for Jim to ground himself on if shit goes wrong.”

“Why? You said you’d be fine, Jim.” Shit like this was why Jim let Chris fuss over him when anyone else he would’ve ripped to pieces for asking. The poor man sounded so genuinely concerned, both for Jim’s health and that Jim might’ve been lying to him about potential trouble.

“I will be, Chris! Bones is just being paranoid.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “I’m the CMO you idiot, it’s my job to paranoid about the kind of shit that you people can get into when you’re running around uncharted planets, catching all manner of diseases and getting into shit from your own stupidity.”

Jim just gave Chris a look, and though he pursed his lips, the Captain nodded. “Yeah, so a little fussy but not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Look, I’ll admit that I might need to take a day off for meditation every now and then, but it’s no different then when other people get colds. It won’t affect the running of the ship.”

“Yeah Jim, because that’s what I’m concerned about. My schedule.”

Jim had the grace to blush. “It’ll be fine and I’ll be fine, Chris. I’ll talk the Center around to something less stupid. I mean, the Sentinel they proposed has never even been off Earth and they’re trying to send her on a five-year mission? I’ll spend all my time keeping her senses balanced and not doing my job.” Judging by Chris’ expression he thought that was _exactly_ what the Center intended, and his opinion only would’ve gotten worse if he’d seen the leggy blonde they were trying to force on Jim. (And yes, he’d been tempted to sleep with her for the fun of it, but no, he wasn’t stupid enough to stick his dick in someone who would probably move heaven and earth to lure him into a bond.)

“Didn’t Bones just fake an illness for you to get you on the _Farragut_?” Pike grumbled.

“No, Bones _actually_ infected me with the Bolian Flu. Nobody argues with a doctor when their patient has hands the size of hubcaps.”

“So do that again.”

“OK, as nice as it is that you think my immune system can just bounce back when Bones gives me shit like that, the S/G Center won’t accept that a second time. They didn’t do any follow up on me because I was listed as in Bones’ medical care, which they assumed was the two of us drinking. By the time they realized I wasn’t on Earth anymore the Farragut was in a firefight, we lost the Chief Tactical Officer, and I’d been promoted on a ship dealing with border disputes with the Romulans. It takes a special confluence of events to get Starfleet to tell the S/G Center to fuck off, and that was one of them. If I hadn’t been good at my job Starfleet might’ve sent me back anyway just to shut the Center up.”

“But you were good, and that’s why I want you.”

Praise from Pike always pinged hard at the pleasure center of Jim’s brain and he gave the man a grateful shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Pike, I’ll work it out.”

“You know, if you really someone to ground your emotions on out there Jim, I’ll find someone who’ll fit the bill.” Pike went on to explain that pretty much anyone could be made useful on a starship, even if it was just helping out in the commissary or cataloguing things for botany, and even the world’s most useless person would be worth getting Jim on his boat. They were all really nice words and some part of Jim logged them down to say thank you later, but the rest of Jim’s brain was really more interested in the Vulcan who just walked in the door.

He was tall and lean, with pretty little points to his ears and hair that Jim wanted to bury his fingers in so he could mess it up. All that pretty wrapping was just a plus, because the Vulcan’s mind reminded Jim of the lake where he spent a summers when he was a kid, smooth as glass. Or maybe it was like standing in the middle of a corn field at dawn before the wind started to blow, or the time he drove into the desert on his bike, nothing but endless sky above him and the silent earth beneath his feet. Either way, Jim wanted to roll around in that mind and poke into every nook and cranny until he had the perfect words to describe it, then find out more and realize it was all wrong and start over again. It would be a lifetime of study that Jim was looking forward to.

Right in Jim’s ear, and in a voice not nearly quiet enough, Pike said, “That would be Spock. He would be the only Vulcan to ever join Starfleet and I want him for my Chief Science Officer. He hasn’t said yes yet, Jim.” Pike didn’t tell Jim to keep it in his pants, but his tone mean he didn’t want the dramatic aftermath played out on his ship. Though a Vulcan probably wouldn’t try and set Jim’s apartment on fire the way some of the other ex’s had. Jim had the ability to make even the most well-negotiated one-nigh-stands go haywire, but that wasn’t going to be a problem here. There would be no awkward morning after because this Vulcan was going to be the rest of his life.

Jim left Chris behind to his sighs and didn’t even have to lure the Vulcan away from Number One as she tried to usher him away from the sea of boisterous, half-drunk future _Enterprise_ crew Instead, Spock responded to Jim’s single-minded attention with a raised eyebrow. Jim was pretty sure he was supposed to feel judged by that expression, but really, it just made Jim want to climb into Spock’s lap and see if the Vulcan could remain as impassive when Jim was grinding against him.

Jim recognized that Number One was introducing him with the dry sort of exhaustion she always assumed with people who got her captain in trouble, but it was Bones shoulder-checking him that brought Jim out of the fantasy playing full screen in his head. “You’ll have to excuse Jim, he’s an idiot. Leonard McCoy, I’ll be the CMO on this stupid little adventure.” Bones lifted his hand into a perfect ta’al and Number One waived them towards towards a side table where Spock could observe the crew she was trying to convince him to join while not getting any messy uninhibited emotions all over him.

Spock broke eye contact long enough to find his way into a chair and went straight back to staring at Jim, even though his words were for Bones. “To describe a five-year mission into uncharted space as a ‘little adventure’ is inaccurately diminutive.”

“If Bones pretends it’s like a jaunt down the street then he’ll be less terrified of going.”

“If the Doctor is displeased with his assignment on the _Enterprise_ there is an appeals process to avoid assignment.”

“Spock,” Jim stepped leaned and took Spock by his clothing-covered forearm. “Bones just likes to complain.” Spock was pure muscle, and it took Jim a moment to realize the reason he could feel it was because Spock had seized up at the touch. “Sorry.”

“Apologies are unnecessary. Your touch was simply unexpected. You are a Guide.”

“You can feel that through your clothes?”

“Each telepathic species has a different psionic profile, as I am sure you are aware. Even when you are not actively projecting, your species is easily distinguishable from average Humans”

“Sentinels and Guides are Human.” Bones said, offended on Jim’s behalf.

“If we’re being technical, I’m a sub-species, Bones. Did you know, there was actually a big debate in the 20th century about whether or not Sentinel and Guides really were a different species from the rest of Humanity? It was tangled up in those arguments people were making about different races being different species and all that stupidity.”

“It is my understanding that many of the members of the terrorist organization, Earth First, have espoused a similar rhetoric regarding Sentinels and Guides and their value to Earth’s society in what is characterized as the struggle against other members of the Federation and their influence on Terra.”

Even if Spock hadn’t been so fucking pretty, Jim would’ve wanted to kiss just for even knowing about the Earth First movement, and even more for having the guts to call them terrorists. Starfleet was still calling them ‘protestors’ and it made Jim want to scream. “Those bastards value Sentinels more than Guides. They want us to go back to when Guides were just slaves there to keep Sentinel from getting lost in their senses.”

“Presumably the arrival of technology that could perform all the same tasks as a Sentinel’s heightened senses would render Sentinels of less value than a properly calibrated scanner.”

“Exactly. Our importance as Sentinels and Guides kind of leveled out when Terrans were still planet-bound, but technology was everyplace so heightened senses could be convenient when they weren’t crippling, and Guides still did what they always did. But then we started interacting with other species with their own mental gifts. They say Betazoid almost refused to join the Federation because the Guide in the pairing their Ambassador interacted with was actually unhappy with the match but had powered through since they were genetically perfect for one another. The Betazoid ambassador considered it psionic abuse and it nearly broke their relationship with Earth. Betazoid still isn’t thrilled with us because Sentinels and Guides so rarely leave our home world.”

“‘Thrilled’? Is that what we’re calling it now, Jimmy?” Bones interrupted. He grabbed Jim’s shoulder and pulled him back against the chair, away from where he’d been leaning all up into Spock’s space. “When we were on Tellar Prime the Betazoid Ambassador crawled into your lap. Captain April had to pull out his Dad voice to get the man off you.”

Jim glared at Bones, because stories like that were not going to help the cause here. Bones just grinned and took another mouthful on bourbon. Apparently if Jim was going to lose his mind and hit on a Vulcan, then Bones was going to make him work for it.

Spock tilted his head and gave a little nod. “Though illogical, the Ambassador’s actions are understandable. I find your psionic profile pleasing and my telepathy is only conveyed through touch. Your presence must be infinitely more appealing to a people who constantly share mental space.”

Jim blushed. “You think I’m pleasing?”

“It would be illogical to assume that you have reached this age without realizing that your presence is psionically pleasurable. I do not understand your surprise.”

Bones cursed under his breath and kicked at Number One at the other side of the table to join him in leaving.

Spock finally looked away from Jim to watch them depart in obvious exasperation. “I have made Doctor McCoy and Commander Uvoh uncomfortable.” Jim bit back the urge to reach out and rub his thumb over the Vulcan’s wrinkled forehead.

“No,” Bones grumbled. “I just don’t want to watch Jimmy eye-fuck you over the table.”

Bones grabbed his bourbon and took hooked Number One’s arm through his like he was a gentleman and not a bastard. Jim kind of wanted to kick Bones in the ass for destroying any chance Jim had to ease into things, but the man wasn’t wrong. Bones had years worth of ammunition in precisely what Jim looked like when he wanted to bed someone, so Bones was probably being kind when he didn’t tell Spock every. single. thing. Jim was thinking about doing to the Vulcan.

Really, via Bones wasn’t the way Jim wanted Spock introduced to his debauchery.

Guides liked sex. It was kind of Guide 101 and part of the reason why so many people had used to and still did consider Guides to be the weaker part of the pairing. (And part of the reason why other species were so chill with the concept of Guides when dealing with their rather Puritanical-in-comparison Human counterparts, and why they were so miffed that Sentinels and Guides never really left Earth.) Considering that Jim had no idea how Vulcans felt about sex – other than it probably happened, but not even that he could say definitely considering their science was good enough to produce gestational tanks that removed messy biology from the whole process – he didn’t really want to start tossing around shit like that until he had some more information.

Spock watched Jim scramble for words that wouldn’t be out and out lying, then nodded at some internal discussion. “I believe it would be most efficient to share that I am unsure as to whether it is in our mutual best interests to abide by the sociocultural constructs of Terrans regarding interpersonal interactions or of Vulcans. I confess that I am not familiar enough with Guides to tailor my behavior to your specific subspecies.”

“Like a Vulcan, please.”

“Very well. While I find you aesthetically and psionically appealing, I am aware enough of your subspecies to know that you are incapable of forming any sort of lasting bond outside of Terra-strain Humans. While I appreciate your conversation and believe we would find physical interaction and intercourse mutually gratifying, I have no inclination to indulge in the Human custom of a one-night stand.”

Jim leaned across the table and paused before he dragged Spock into a kiss like instinct said he should. He knew the moment he and Spock met skin to skin that higher brain function was going to shut itself down in favor of impulse. Before he dragged his Vulcan into acting like a Human, he deserved the chance to object. Jim hovered there, a breath separating the two of them and in the space between their lips he murmured, “How about one lifetime? Want to indulge in that?”

“No, I do not believe that even that would be sufficient.” And Spock bridged the gap.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn’t matter how much time Jim spent on his home planet, he was always surprised to be woken by the sunshine. There was a certain beauty in it, he supposed. Sunshine creeping through the window and across the floor so that by the time it reached the bed the whole room was bathed in the warm glow.

Only, it wasn’t really like that. Who knew that stupid feather-heads could be so loud? And the sun didn’t ‘creep’, it burst over the ocean like it was hunting for something and all of the sudden you went from the middle of the night to so damn bright that no amount of covers and pillows could keep you safe. Jim far preferred the slow brightening of a ship’s lights so he could keep everything hovering at that few moments of glow right before the sun broke over the horizon, just enough ambient light escaping over the curve of the earth to case everything in the right kind of light photographers were still struggling to achieve despite all the galaxy’s technology and centuries of practice.

Long story short, Jim was looking forward to waking up with Spock on the _Enterprise_.

He was really looking forward to tinkering with the cabin’s lights, changing angles and triggering different strips so he could make Spock look as cuddly in person as he felt in Jim’s head. He wanted to find a temperature at the low range of stupid hot that Vulcans considered normal to would keep Spock comfortable enough that he could sleep in nothing but a sheet. That was Jim wouldn’t be sitting here having an internal dialogue with himself about whether or not it was too much like a character in a romance or just plain creepy that he wanted to pull back the quilt tucked around Spock and re-examine him in the aggravatingly bright light of the morning.

Without opening his eyes or disrupting his blanket burrito, Spock said, “It will require effort on both our parts to adapt when we are unaccustomed to sharing mental space on such an intimate level.”

“Is that Vulcan for, ‘shut the fuck up Jim, I’m trying to sleep here’?”

“It was a diplomatic attempt on my part to inform you that while I appreciate your contemplations about my musculature I believe you might prefer they remain private.”

Jim rolled off his elbow and flopped across Spock’s chest, not guilty at all when his chin collided with the Vulcan’s breastbone. Bastard didn’t do him the courtesy of pretending it hurt. He stayed flat on his back, arms by his sides. The only sign he gave was his raised eyebrow above closed eyes.

“If I wanted to stay along in my own mind I wouldn’t have bonded with a telepath.”

“There is a statistical possibility that you might regret such a hasty decision now that you are no longer under the influence of alcohol or the general sense of—”

Jim didn’t care whatever words Spock might have pulled out to finish that sentence. He tossed himself onto Spock’s hips, jolting the Vulcan out of whatever zen-like state he could either manage or fake to ask that question. Instinctively Spock’s hand wormed their way out of the blanket and went for Jim’s hips. When they hovered over his skin, their heat lying to him about Spock’s touch, Jim grabbed the waiting wrists and slammed them to the bed above Spock’s head. The eyebrow went higher, and Jim refused to be distracted by his own urge to stroke that path and Spock’s surprising urge to use his superior strength to flip Jim over onto his back. (There might have been a moment of grinding where Jim could admit that yeah, maybe mental space was a thing they were going to need to work on in the future.)

Jim Kirk had been pissed off by people dancing around their intentions often enough that he didn’t waste time asking Spock the instinctual question about whether or not the Vulcan regretted him. They were mentally wrapped around one another, and Jim was pretty sure that if an Alpha Guide or Vulcan Adept were to scan them they wouldn’t have any idea where one began and the other ended. He knew that Spock had been perfunctory about his physical urges before and he was having a really hard time not taking Jim right the fuck now – or if Jim really wanted to be on the top, he would free his hands and tilt Jim’s hips until he could slide right back into where he’d been last night.

While in other circumstances Jim would be disappointed by the focus on the physical from a guy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, for a touch telepath this was as emotionally soul-bearing as if Jim were talking about George. Even without Jim’s common sense telling him that Spock of all people wasn’t going to let just anyone press their weight against his sensitive wrists.

Spock felt like hot chocolate wrapped around his brain. Warm and sweet, soaking into your skin and for just a moment making you feel like you were at home. Spock was wrapped around Jim’s brain, a steady bulwark against the world that made Jim feel completely comfortable in his own head for the first time since he’d come Online. Even the psionically-shielded rooms at the Center were nothing on the safety of Spock. Jim _should_ be needing to reinforce his mental shields against the world waking around them, brushing off the dreams that always crept their way into his mental space at so vulnerable a time of day.

But here he was, perched on Spock’s hips with nothing in his mind but the Vulcan himself, and if that wasn’t love then Jim didn’t know what in the hell it was that people were out there looking for.

“I get that we got all Human and reckless last night and that it was probably illogical of us to bond on the night we met, but you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“It was not illogical.”

“Hasty life bonding isn’t illogical in your book?”

“We are, as you say, perfectly suited to one another. We were both certain of that upon first contact. It would be illogical to postpone a relationship when we possess such knowledge.”

“I’m letting you be the one to pitch that to Pike when he turns up at your door to yell at me for seducing you.”

“I believe I was the one to seduce you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Mr. Spock.” Jim said with a laugh and a hip swivel.

“It is accurate. Had the seduction been left to you we would both be asleep in our own beds this morning, meditating on regret.”

“I don’t think it counts as seduction when you tell me that you find me aesthetically and psionically pleasing and would like to return to your apartment so we can engage in coitus and perhaps, if we are as psionically compatible as you expect, participate in a mind meld.”

With a buck, Spock had Jim over on his back, the Vulcan’s wrists still wrapped in Jim’s hands, now clutching for dear life as Spock started to roll his hips. “It was effective.”

Jim arched into the pressure. “So damn effective.” He grabbed Spock’s hair and dragged him into a kiss, determined to rout it out of its perfect bowl unaffected by bedhead. Spock let himself be pulled down, chest to chest, belly to belly, and eventually pelvis to pelvis as Jim scrambled with the blanket and Spock dragged Jim’s thigh around his hip, leaving him no place to hide from the pleasure. The sun was coming through Spock’s skin, heat burning lines as Spock branded himself across Jim’s flesh.

Jim was teetering on the edge of orgasm humiliatingly quickly, though judging by the roaring he could feel in Spock’s ears and the way the Vulcan buried his face in Jim’s neck he wasn’t far behind. Spock, the rat bastard, started to murmur in Jim’s ear and it took all Jim’s will to make himself listen to the words rather than let the deep sound of Spock’s voice wash over him. “I would rather be made aware that you regret our bonding now than be made aware of it halfway through our five-year mission. In truth, I would rather be aware of it this morning rather than tomorrow morning.”

Jim dragged Spock out of his hiding place by his hair and looked the Vulcan in the mental and physical eye. “I’m yours and you’re mine. T’hy’la you said to me last night: friend, brother, lover. You’re the other half of me and I’ve been looking for you for over a fucking decade. If you think that I’m going to chicken out now, then we need to spend more time talking so you get what a stubborn shit I am. I’m not giving you up.”

“It will be difficult.”

“And we’ll win.”

“It is interesting. I am not sure how I am capable of finding your confidence both infuriating and arousing.”

“It’s a gift.” Jim went in for a kiss and it wasn’t the knock on Spock’s mental door interrupting them that had Jim sitting up, it was the way Spock stiffened. “What was that?”

Spock glanced down at naked Jim, specifically the place where the curve of his dick was a flex away from Spock’s – as he should – then he glanced away like he’d done something wrong – which he shouldn’t. “Hey,” Jim sat up Spock and pressed his hand to the sharp line of the cheekbone that was quickly becoming one of his favorite angles in the world. “Don’t be ashamed of me.”

“It is not shame, Jim. That psionic prodding was my mother informing me that she intends to comm me shortly.”

“Your mom just mentally poked you while we’re naked and hard in bed.”

“A not inaccurate summation.”

“Please don’t tell me you have a comm in here that’s going to turn on.”

“It is in the sitting. However, she will be comming promptly.”

Which the universe decided was the exact moment the comm should give the warning beep of a call connecting and a woman’s voice echo through the thankfully closed door. “Spock? _Ashal-veh_?”

Jim stared at the man between his legs like he couldn’t understand what kind of idiot gave someone’s comm ID blanket permission to go straight through without having to give permission. Spock mouthed, “She is my mother.” And some time when Jim’s erection hadn’t just died a bloody and painful death he would find that charming, but right now he kind of wanted to figure out if he could get that window open and jump. It couldn’t be worse than creeping out of Spock’s bedroom to meet his parents the night after they met/bonded.

Then it got worse.

“S’chn T’gai Spock, we are aware you are home and your mother desires to speak with you.”

Fun fact, Spock’s voice was only deep until you heard his father. Jim could hear the man’s voice in his bones, and feel the weight of his mental touch press against the walls surrounding Spock’s mind. Walls that were now encircling Jim’s mind too.

Jim flailed.

(Mostly mentally, but yeah, if Spock hadn’t been there he might’ve flailed himself off the bed.)

Jim tossed his mind against Spock’s wall, shoving the elder Vulcan away. Jim could feel the hurt lurking in the depth of Spock’s mind, the strange, twisted, absolute trust he had in his father that endured despite the pain that tainted the mental bond between them. Jim liked to think that if it had been three hours later he wouldn’t have lost his temper, but at this moment he wasn’t going to have this Vulcan he didn’t know poking his mental touch in the space they’d just found for themselves.

Jim felt the world pause around him. Spock looked up at him with wide eyes like he couldn’t fathom how anyone the galaxy could dare to do that. Jim gave him a pained smile and from the sitting room a voice snapped in Vulcan, demanding Spock’s presence – in what Jim didn’t need translated to know meant, ‘right the damn now’.

Jim mouthed an apologetic, “I love you,” and pushed Spock towards the edge of the bed. You’d think the poor guy had never been caught making out with someone by his parents before. Spock pulled on a robe that covered him from neck to floor and while it looked sleek and impressive, Jim was positive he wouldn’t have been able to figure out how the garment worked without a chart.

Spock was ready in a matter of moments – a few of which he wasted staring at naked Jim still on his bed – but it was long enough that Spock’s dad summoned him again. Though Vulcans didn’t worry, Jim didn’t need to be a Guide to pick up on the man’s concern. He was pretty sure that Spock was the kind of kid who immediately messaged is parents back, even if it was just to say, ‘can’t talk right now’. (And the mental image of Spock pausing in the middle of class to text his mom was going right up there on the list of most adorable things beside baby kittens.)

Spock swept out of the room and the moment he was in sight of the camera declared, “I am well, _Ko-mekh_.”

There was a long pause before the lady said, “Yes, I can see that.” Jim would practically hear the eyebrow raise. Jim scrambled out of bed as quietly as he could and went looking for anything that wasn’t the clothes he was pretty sure Spock had torn off him last night. Spock had to have something non-robe and not-uniform somewhere around here and based off the defensiveness he could hear creeping into Spock’s tone, the faster the better.

“You father and I felt the change last night. We were planning on waiting until you had the courtesy to call home and tell us that apparently you’ve been seeing someone you thought was worthy of bonding, but imagine our surprise when Captain Pike begged us to comm you immediately. He is under the impression that we are the only people in the galaxy who could get through the privacy settings you have set.” Jim glanced out the door and saw Spock’s spine ramrod straight and his hands clench in the small of his back. Jim said screw it and pulled on yesterday’s jeans and the closet thing to a clean t-shirt he had found.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Spock. Your Captain was very coy about the whole thing and pretended as though there was some large misunderstanding and the Federation simply needed to talk to you. Of course, it would have been more believable if he’d come up with a justification for why he couldn’t turn up at your apartment himself, but it was a valiant effort. Especially when he couldn’t have known that we already knew you’d bonded.”

Jim took his place beside Spock before the scolding could continue. It was hip to hip rather than fingers intertwined like Jim wanted to, because even he could admit that would probably be an even worse introduction that he was expecting.

Jim was a pure-blooded, Terra-strain Human, and it showed. Spock’s parents flicked their eyes over him looking for any trace of another species that would give him the ability to have shoved off a grown Vulcan’s mental touch. The species who could manage that were few and far between, and the possibilities grew even less when you factored in that the bonding was so complete that the shove had come from Jim, while nestled in Spock’s mind.

Spock’s dad got there first and the man’s thick eyebrows could’ve scraped his hairline. “You are a _Kakhartau_.”

Spock’s mom added, “A _Kakhartau_ is a—”

“A Guide,” Jim interrupted. “I know. Spock taught me.” The ‘last night’ didn’t really need to be said. Neither did the, ‘Spock whispered it in my ear while he was fucking me.’

Spock’s dad snapped something in Vulcan that made Spock’s temper flare, but before Jim could intercede, Spock’s mom shut that down. “Stop it, Sarek. This boy is our son in law and it’s rude to discuss the matter in a language he cannot understand.”

Jim kind of wondered what it must be like to be bonded to Sarek, because while Spock was a depthless pool of still water, Sarek looked like he had a wildfire burning behind those eyes. His wife’s voice did plenty to cool it, but not enough to keep Jim from idly wondering if the man could set him on fire from across the galaxy with just the force of his temper.

There were two camps of gossip about Vulcans, one that called them all unfeeling robots, and another – the ones who had spent any real length of time getting to know a Vulcan – that said they felt things with an intensity that would scare the shit out of non-telepaths if they were paying attention.

Spock’s dad – Sarek apparently – was all kinds of pissed at the thought that some _Kakhartau_ had taken advantage of his son, and based off the rumpled, third-party information he had, Jim couldn’t blame him. (He was going to have lots of fun blaming Chris, though. Spock’s parents really didn’t need Spock’s future commanding officer calling them up and treating it like he’d been caught having a one-night-stand with the wrong person.)

“I apologize for the haste, and I’d like to say that we should’ve waited to contact you for your blessing, but that would be a lie. I’ve been waiting for Spock for almost twenty years and there was no way I was letting him out of my sight, but I _am_ sorry that we hurt you.”

“We are not _hurt_.” Sarek said.

“I’m a little hurt,” Spock’s mom interrupted. “But confusion is currently in first place. It is my understanding that as a Guide you should not be _able_ to bond with Spock.”

Sarek went to interrupt and the lady raised her hand and cut him off. And if that wasn’t the most impressive thing Jim had ever seen, he didn’t know what was. “Well ma’am—”

“Amanda.”

“Amanda, I’m Jim. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, even under these circumstances.”

“Whether I am equally pleased to meet you will depend on your answers, Jim.”

“Right, well, that was my understanding too. But Chris was having a ‘get to know you’ thing for the _Enterprise_ crew last night, and…” Jim turned to look at the love of his life. “There was Spock. He walked in and it was like the world paused. My brain just latched on and he met me halfway.”

“Your species cannot even leave Terra,” Sarek said, and really, it was impressive how enraged he could sound without any inflection.

“We _can_ leave, it’s just a lot of our people don’t like to. They get uncomfortable away from Terra. And those of us who join the Fleet have to get approval from the S/G Center that we’re in good health before we can go on missions.”

“Your people lose their abilities when they leave Terra.”

This wasn’t really on topic, but if it was important to Sarek, Jim would hang out there. “An individual won’t lose their gifts, but if their children are born and raised away from Terra then they won’t be gifted. There hasn’t been an definitive study on if the defining factor is being born away from Terra, growing up away from Terra, or if there’s some genetic component.”

“Would the two of you like to continue discussing genetics, or can we get back to the task at hand?”

Sarek and Jim flinched at the same time and Jim was going to have to adjust to just exactly how blunt Vulcans could be because while Jim would’ve apologized and maybe led them gently to the answer, Spock went right ahead and announced to his parents, “Jim is my T’hy’la. I recognized him upon our first meeting yesterday and it seemed to me illogical to wait when we had found one another.”

“ _Kakhartau_ cannot bond outside Terra-strain Humans. This is accepted biological fact.”

“Turns out those facts were wrong.” Jim shrugged. “Poor Spock and I are probably going to get dragged to the Center to have the integrity of our bond checked to make sure we haven’t both lost our minds, but they’ll get over it.”

Sarek and Amanda kept their eyes on the screen, but Jim knew he and Spock were supposed to just stand there while the parents talked. “Sarek, we felt Spock bond last night. And no matter how improbable it would seem given—”

“Given established scientific data?”

“Despite that, we can feel he’s bonded. So thoroughly bonded that Jim was capable of protecting Spock’s mind from _you_. So we can safely assume that they are, in fact, bonded. Which means that medical professionals – a term I use only for lack of better options – who have been trained to deal only with their specific subspecies of Human and have no experience with other psionics, let alone a Vulcan of Spock’s capacity or genetics, these are the people who are going to test the veracity of a newly-formed T’hy’la bond. They are going to poke their grubby, xenophobic fingers in our son’s mind and treat him like a science experiment they’re trying to disprove?”

Amanda really had a way with words, because while Jim had been envisioning a morning with the Center’s healers asking them uncomfortable questions to try and understand what their psionic senses were already telling them, Amanda’s description was probably a thousand times more accurate. Jim had gotten used to the healers trying to prod at him while the Primes extolled to him the virtues of Terra and staying on his home planet for bonding, but to someone who wasn’t accustomed to their mental touch, someone who relied on logic rather than the empathy that drove Guides, it would likely be hell.

The silence stretched on and Spock’s nudge was the first sign Jim had that his participation was going to be necessary. “They’re going to try. I won’t let them, though. They’ll be able to tell we’re bonded just from being in the room with us. They’ll want to ask a bunch of inappropriate questions, and a few of them might have something useful to say so they can figure out where all the science has gone wrong for the last three hundred years that we had no idea that our people could bond outside the species, but I won’t them root around in Spock’s head, or get too close to the bond.”

Amanda cocked her head in a way so exactly like her son that Jim had to bit his lip from giving them the wrong impression with his smile. “I believe you. But they will be diligent in their efforts to violate both of your mental privacy because this will rewrite their understanding of their own biology.”

“They will be furious,” Sarek added, “because it will rewrite their concept of self. Sentinels and Guides pride themselves on being attached to Terra on a spiritual level. That is the currently accepted dogma regarding why your people do not appear in Humans who spend too much time away from Terra. Bonding so far outside your species will be direct threat to the principle for which they most pride themselves and will pose a risk to your lives from the more aggressive subsections of your culture.”

“You’re not wrong, but how do you know so much about the crazies?”

Spock cleared his throat. “I have been remiss in my duties. Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk, formerly Chief Tactical Officer aboard the _Farragut_ and newly appointed Chief Tactical Officer of the Enterprise, allow me to introduce my parents, Doctor Amanda Grayson, and Vulcan Ambassador to Terra and the Federation, S’chn T’gai Sarek.”

Now Jim realized why the name ‘Sarek’ sounded familiar, though his brain had relegated it to the side on the assumption that maybe Sarek was a common name on Vulcan. After all, who wouldn’t name their kid after the Vulcan who had been the entire planet’s main mouthpiece to the Federation for the last fifty years and had brokered the Narada Peace Treaty between the Romulans and the Federation as a whole, as well as handled each of the sub-treaties between the Romulans and the different aligned systems along their border.

Ambassador Sarek was probably one of the few people in the galaxy whose career would be impressive in comparison to Dr. Grayson’s work in anthropology. Which yes, was still called anthropology, despite the desire of some people to call it alienology. The woman had made a career out of scientifically smacking down xenophobes of every stripe and species. She did it with brutal logic and a smile, and now at least one of those things had an explanation.

Jim cleared his throat and ignored his blush. “Pleasure to meet you both. Though I’m not going to lie, I really wish I’d been able to find clean clothes for this.”

“Were clean clothes less important when our careers were less impressive?” Amanda asked.

“No, but they were less important when Spock was out here getting into trouble all by himself. Now I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life remembering that not only did I meet Spock’s parents in jeans that smell like bar, but that when I finally got the chance to thank Ambassador Sarek for keeping my family out of the Romulan negotiations like Starfleet wanted us to be, I wasn’t wearing any socks.”

The Ambassador paused and went through rapid-fire calculations. “Kirk, Spock said your name was.”

“Yes sir, the youngest child of George and Winona.”

“Born in the midst of the massacre.”

“Yes, sir.” Jim cleared his throat. It had been ages since the mention of George and the way he died had made his eyes prickle, but Sarek said it with such certainty about precisely what had happened that Jim knew he understood. Spock slipped one hand down from the small of his back and took Jim’s, propriety be damned.

“Your thanks are appreciated, but unnecessary.”

“It may be unnecessary for you, but your intervention was necessary for my brother Sam and I, and I’ll never really be able to explain how much better you made our lives by telling Starfleet off for dragging kids into their politics.”

“The behavior of the Admiralty towards you and the other orphans of that massacre was reprehensible.”

“And they did better by all of us after you told them so.”

“While they might have done better, I imagine that the Center has not?” Amanda asked.

“They don’t like me much, but we’ve been in enough fights that they tend to prefer the guilt approach.”

“Why don’t they like you?”

“I like to leave the planet. It makes them uncomfortable.”

“Of course you like to leave. You’ve been looking for Spock.” There was something about that that answered whatever questions Amanda had lurking in the back of her mind and with a sharp nod she turned to face her husband. “Sarek?”

He nodded in agreement. “We will arrive on Terra in eight hours. Refrain from allowing your mind to be violated until then.” With a flick of a switch, they were gone.

The silence was abrupt and deafening. “So… that went well?”

“Yes, actually. My mother did not threaten your wellbeing.”

“You mom doesn’t seem like the type to normally do that.”

“She has mastered the art of subtlety in a way I have found in few other beings. Had she disliked you, you would have been made aware.”

“Your dad doesn’t like me, though.”

“It would be illogical to ‘like’ an individual whom one has not met. My mother is far more likely to rely upon Human intuition in this instance.”

Spock just kept staring at the blank screen. “Are we going to talk about that Pike called your mom to tell her to tell us to comm him?”

“I did not think such a discussion would be necessary. Presumably Captain Pike only sought to warn us about the interest of the Center in your unscheduled bonding, which you warned me would happen before we did so.”

“Yeah, but what if something else happened?”

“We will be unable to do anything about this hypothetical emergency since the more logical way to protect ourselves from the machinations of the Center is to remain as safely ensconced in my unlisted apartment as we have been thus far.”

“But if Pike told us to call him _through your Mom_ then something important must’ve happened!”

“And Starfleet must also be monitoring all of Captain Pike’s communications on the presumption that he will be the only individual capable of contacting us through some method. With any degree of organization, Starfleet will be at my apartment within ten minutes of our contacting the Captain.”

“But it’s Chris!” Jim was all but vibrating in his worry about what his adopted father and their crew might be dealing with out there while they were tucked safely in bed.

“I am not denying your concerns, Jim. There are simply many factors to consider in this process. I am certain that if asked for his opinion that Captain Pike would prefer that we remain safely out of sight while he handled the situation until my parents arrive with a Vulcan healer who will verify our bond in such a manner that the Center will have no grounds to object or to conduct their own tests.”

“You’re right. That would be perfectly logical and exactly what Chris, and Bones, and Number One would all want us to do.” Jim ran his hands through his hair.

Spock sorted through the jumble of emotions he could feel coming from Jim and declared, “And so of course, we must leave the safety of the apartment and find Captain Pike to discuss the matter with him ourselves.”

The smile breaking across Jim’s face was like sunshine. “Really?”

“My recklessness in joining Starfleet is what led me to you. My recklessness of last night means that this morning we are bonded. Perhaps I should make greater efforts to incorporate such behavior into my life.”

And after that, well, they were a little late getting out of the apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Number One opened the door to Pike’s apartment and declared, “You owe me 20 credits, Chris.”

Deeper in the apartment, Chris started to curse. Spock had the decency not to tell Jim ‘I told you so,’ and Number One ushered them in with an eye roll. “You knew Jimmy was an idiot when you drafted him for the _Enterprise_ , Chris, don’t be surprised that he managed to drag Spock into his nonsense.”

“ _Don’t_ have sex with my Science Officer,” Chris complained between drinks of what was pretending to be coffee but had to be laced with something more than a little alcoholic. (Chris should know better than to drink coffee made by Bones by now.) “Was that really so hard a concept, Jim? _Don’t_ sleep with another member of the command stuff. I feel like that’s something they teach you kids in Command 101 and if they don’t, they should.”

“First off, for the purposes of this conversation are we pretending like you and Number One have never slept together?” Pike choked on his drink, which Jim ignored to replicate breakfast for him and Spock. “Because I can do that, but the hypocrisy might make your head explode.”

Bones leaned over Jim’s shoulder and modified the entry to more protein and less sugar. “Leave the man alone, Jim. He’s been getting lectured by Starfleet all damn morning since the Center is putting the screws to them about how our whole crew let one of their favorite unbonded Guides walk out of the bar last night to someone’s apartment when none of us knew the address. And let me tell you, defending the hobgoblin’s honor is not how I wanted to start my day.”

Spock accepted his smoothie with a nod. “While I find your approach to interspecies relations fascinating Doctor, I request that you refrain from such xenophobic commentary until after my parents have returned to Vulcan.”

The entire room froze. Chris gulped. “The Ambassador is coming to Earth?”

Spock gracefully took one of the seats in the living room and seemed not at all bothered by their communal panic. “And my mother.”

Number One cursed and Pike set down his coffee to reach for the bottle. Number One plucked it out of his hand without a break in her swearing. “I _told_ you to just wait for the idiot boys to come out of their bedroom, but _no_ , you had to call Lady Amanda. And you know what’s going to happen now, Chris? The Ambassador is going to get on a shuttle with T’Pau and you and I are going to get _shot_ for letting her favorite grandchild get defiled after we let him get drunk at a bar!”

Jim dropped down beside Spock, far more engrossed in watching Chris get scolded than he was in his plate of eggs.

“If I may interrupt,” Spock said, even though Jim wished he wouldn’t, “I have not been defiled.”

Bones snorted. “Sex with Vulcans and regular Humans isn’t like sex with a Guide, Spock. Think about it like how your grandmother would feel if you were having sex with a Betazoid.”

“First,” Spock set his glass down with a sharp click, “Counselor T’Pau is my great-aunt, not my grandmother. Second, I am not her favorite. She has grandchildren of her own, many of whom are leaders in their fields. If Vulcans were to have favorites, which they do not, one of those would be so. Third, I choose to ignore the xenophobic rhetoric regarding sexual relationships with any Humanoid species and leave it for later discussion because number four, you seem to be under the false impression that Jim and I engaged in some sort of a tryst when in fact we are bonded.”

Jim was still at the point where he found it hilarious that people were so baffled that he and Spock had bonded. He was sure he was going to start getting pissed when people expressed opinions about it other than dumbfounded, but right now watching Bones have to scramble to catch his mimosa before he spilled it all over Pike’s carpet was pretty great.

Pike summoned up the will to talk first, having led his ship into battle before and all. “You mean, you’ve bonded emotionally and you’re best friends now.”

“Nope,” Jim popped. “He means bonded as in married. As in when you commed his parents they already knew something was up because they could feel the change in Spock’s psionic profile when it made space for me. Bonded as in the reason the Center is freaking the hell out isn’t because they couldn’t find me, or I was sleeping with an alien,” Jim paused to throw a pillow at Bones’ head for that assumption, “but because other Guides could feel me bond with a Sentinel when as of yesterday when they told me I needed to bond for before they’d give me permission to leave on the _Enterprise_ I told them to fuck off.”

There was a roar of objections from these three Humans who loved him dearly and had picked fights on his behalf with almost every aspect of the Center. Bones and Pike had been under the impression that Jim’s potential bonding had been a suggestion, not an order, and they were furious at the Center, and at Jim’s deceit.

For people who were content to stay on Earth and not really interact with all the fascinating people that ran around the galaxy, the Center was wonderful. They liked being fussed over and thought it was perfectly rational that their people had to be certified before they could leave the planet. After all, what would happen to a Guide like Jim when he was alone on a spaceship and they came across some new species that could slip through his mental shields without a problem? What would Jim do if he didn’t have a Sentinel on the ship whose mind he could roost in, wrapped around him to protect him from the encroachment of other people’s feelings and impulses?

When Jim lost control while on a ship, he trusted Bones to give him a sedative and put him behind a psionic shield so that when he woke back up he’d be well-rested and alone enough that he could piece his mind back together without all the pressure of a thousand other thoughts invading his space. When Jim told other Guides that was his procedure when he was out in space – not joint mediation, or sex, or even just wrapping himself physically around someone so his mind had a path to follow – they were appalled. Jim couldn’t count the number of Guides of all ages and from all walks of life who’d sat him down and tried to tell him that it didn’t need to be that way. Even if he wasn’t looking for a permanent bond, he could establish one of those temporary tethers that could give him relief. And that was precisely what the Center had offered Jim when he went to them yesterday afternoon for verification before Starfleet was allowed to put him on the official roster for the _Enterprise_.

Maybe if Jim had been less obviously tempted by the offer then the Center wouldn’t have been paying such close attention to him. (They would’ve noticed anyway, but maybe they wouldn’t have hounding the Fleet or making them hound Chris.) But Jim _had_ been tempted.

He was pretty sure the Center had gone through every unbonded Sentinel on the planet who was in their 20s and 30s to find someone whose personality wouldn’t drive Jim mad, and had the skills and psychological profile to be useful on a starship. They’d ended up offering Jim a few Sentinels with enough control over their senses to not go crazy with all the stimulation on a ship, two engineers, and an anthropologist. Jim was so determined to be on the _Enterprise_ that he willingly flipped through all of them and actually did them the credit of narrowing the list down to something better suited. The Sentinels and Guides handling the paperwork were so excited about Jim not just entertaining the idea but actually engaging with them that they nearly vibrated their way out of their skin. Jim let them get away with their enthusiasm because so rarely did he do anything that made the Center system happy and when he turned them all down, at least he could tell the Center and Starfleet he’d tried.

Of course, that effort meant not one damn thing when he walked into a bar to meet his fellow crewmembers and found Spock.

While he’d informed Spock all about the meddling so the Vulcan could make an informed decision before they bonded – at least, as informed as things got when Jim was giving him a hand job – Jim had been a little bit busy staring at Spock to inform the rest of the group about the full details around how he’d spent his afternoon.

“It’s fine!” Jim calmed them, trying to cut off their sea of objections. “Their plan doesn’t matter now, I’ve got Spock.”

“And Spock is okay with that?”

“Captain, are you under their impression that my bonding with Jim would be anything less than genuine?” Oh hey, Spock could sound exactly like his dad when he put his mind to it.

“No, I’m just making sure that you know that the Center is going to flip their collective shits trying to figure out how in the hell this happened and whether or not it’s a mistake that they have any call at all to undo.”

“They will not. As we stated to begin this conversation, my mother and father are coming. It is their express wish that neither Jim nor myself expose ourselves to psionic probing until such time as they arrive with a Vulcan healer who can verify our bond beyond even the Center’s capacity to object.”

Which, of course, was the exact moment a sharp knock sounded on the door and its machinery gave the squeal that only came when police were implementing code to override a lock.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim could admit to himself that no matter how many planets he visited, there was still a part of him that found the Seattle Sentinel and Guide Center stunning. The architecture was striking, as though the Sentinels and Guides who’d survived the eugenics wars had wanted to build a temple honoring all the dead they’d lost preserving Humanity from the Augments. The place made him feel warm and safe, and even after all these years Jim didn’t know if it was because the building was filled with Sentinels and Guides, or if it was because of what a relief the building had been to enter after the hell of Tarsus and the journey back to Terra.

Either way, Jim was a little busy looking up at the glass ceiling above the entrance hall and the way the fragmented glass broke up the light like the canopy of trees surrounding the building. Spock completely ignored the Center Officers who were supposed to be escorting them and paused in the middle of the entrance hall to stare up and verbally contemplate about the Terran propensity for naturalistic architecture and decoration. The two Sentinel and Guide teams all rocked on their toes like they’d been expecting Spock to actually move along and they didn’t know what to do now that he’d stopped.

Spock had managed the same casual disregard for the Officers from the moment he strode over to open Chris’ front door to find them hacking the door’s touchpad. Spock had raised his father’s eyebrow and given them a lecture on the efficacy of knocking on doors instead of violating the rights of both the Terran individuals inside and the two aliens whose governments would be intensely displeased at having their citizens subjected to such disreputable behavior. He had bid Chris, Bones, and Number One goodbye, took Jim by the hand, and asked the Officers if they were planning on escorting them all the way to the Center or if he was going to be once again subjected to Jim’s motorbike. If they hadn’t been on their way someplace, Jim would’ve slammed the door in the faces and sucked Spock off just for the way these battle-trained Officers were just standing there being scolded by a Vulcan. (And no, being in Chris’ apartment wouldn’t have stopped Jim at all.)

Spock probably would’ve stood there for twenty minutes just to remind them all that he and Jim were there as a kindness and not because he was obligated to dance to their tune. The Primes would probably wait upstairs as their own way to prove that they weren’t perturbed by Spock’s show of defiance, but the Center’s CMO had never been one for displays of control. (Despite that shared trait, the man and Bones hated one another.)

“Kirk! What happened, boy?”

With a smooth side step, Spock put himself between Jim and Doctor Greer. “I have been given to understand that you ought to be fully informed about what happened.”

Greer stopped short before he could make contact with Spock. Jim shared with Spock a silent assurance that it wasn’t xenophobia but the same space the doctor would give any newly-bonded Sentinel. “I know my senses are telling me you’re bonded, but I also know that my eyes are telling me you’re a Vulcan and that isn’t possible.”

“There is a saying amongst my people: _kiv snem-tor tu-fenk, fan-vel monguhsh, wi-rikesik, bolayatik nam’uh kilkaya._ ”

“And what does that mean?”

“If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution.”

Greer looked like if this was any other person on the planet he’d beat the shit out them like a good Sentinel should, but no matter what Sentinels thought about their own capacity, you didn’t pick fights with random aliens. Especially Vulcans, since those were one of the few species that enough Guides had interacted with to understand that despite the stone cold exterior, they housed such powerful emotions that if a pissed off Vulcan laid hands on a Guide then they could do irreparable harm to a Guide’s mind. And for all a Sentinel’s mind ought to be able to protect a Guide from any outside force, it hadn’t been tested against a Vulcan.

“As of yesterday I concurred with you that Sentinels and Guides were incapable of bonding outside their species, but now I have proof to the contrary.”

“And tell me, Mr. Spock, how are we to be certain that this bond is not only in place, but healthy for both you and Guide Kirk?”

“It is my understanding that Jim is highly trained enough that the appropriate measure would be to simply _ask him_. For my own part I can verify the health of the bond as I perceive it.”

“When it comes to bonds, we don’t just trust the Guide’s word, it has to be checked.”

“Tell me then, what procedure does this ‘check’ involve?” Spock stood there, seemingly uncaring of the sea of people gawking at him and not having to eavesdrop on their conversation at all. His hands were in the small of his back, one hand wrapped around a wrist, and his fingers intertwined with Jim’s on the other.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t make much sense to a non-Sentinel.”

“Ah, so you intend to delay testing until after I have undergone the necessary Sentinel training so that I might be made fully aware of the information necessary to understand the process.”

“No!”

Spock was a devious little shit and Jim really loved that he could feel that through their skin. “I do not understand. If you are unwilling to provide me with the training necessary to be fully informed about the issue, but are also unwilling to wait for such education then the only alternative would be to subject me to the test when I am unprepared for it.”

“You don’t need to be prepared! You only need to sit there and let me sure you haven’t taken advantage of Jim and burrowed your way into his brain!”

Spock must’ve been able to feel Jim’s shock. After all the years he’d know Greer he’d never seen the kind of fear that was radiating from the man now. Sarek was going to owe Jim an ‘I told you so’ when all this was done. The doctor was so terrified of the rewriting of basic principles of biology that was happening right in front of him that he was behaving like an idiot. It would be like if Humans started sprouting tentacles instead of fingers and if the be-tentacled people could work them just fine and weren’t freaking out at all. Jim could understand his panic and having his worldview re-written, but that understanding didn’t mean Jim was going to stand there and let Greer shout at Spock.

But before Jim could get in the way and do some shouting of his own, the Center’s Primes stepped out of the elevator that Jim guessed they’d ran to as soon as they heard the tension in Greer’s voice start ratcheting up.

Sentinel Harper and Guide Monrose were the kind of pair that any time Jim was around them he was tempted to bond with someone he didn’t feel pulled towards just so he could start working on the kind of relationship they had. He never made it quite that far, but to watch the way Sentinel Harper took a step in front of her partner to protect her from the freaking out doctor and the irritated Vulcan gave Jim’s heart a twinge in gratitude that now he’d know that kind of companionship.

Guide Monrose’s voice effervesced feelings so soothing that it felt like the world paused. “Dr. Greer, I need you to recuse yourself. Your concern for Jim is justified, but you need some meditation.” Greer sagged like his strings were cut and he let himself be waived over to another Sentinel and Guide pair. Jim was a bit more concerned by the way he could feel Spock’s mental shields strengthening around them, not thickening or reaching higher but like the strands of a blanket weaving tighter, with more and more threads filling the empty space. There was still nothing between Jim and Spock since he was on the inside of that mental barrier, but Spock so completely shut out the outside world that Guide Monrose whipped around and stared at them in shock, a though she’d expected them to have teleported away so complete was Spock’s closure.

Monrose raised her hands. “I don’t mean you any harm, Mr. Spock.”

“Intention has no value when compared with an individual’s actions, ma’am.”

“You object to my calming of Dr. Greer?”

“I see no difference between your ‘calming’ of him and dosing him with a narcotic to make him pliable.”

Guides around the room huffed at the comparison, and to be frank, Jim was a little insulted too. “I did not alter his mind, I simply made him calm enough to process his anger in a way he could not when faced with an impossibility that flies in the face of his entire professional life. You can understand how he might find that so difficult to accept that he would speak in haste, and I only wished to stop him before he said something damaging to his relationship—”

“ _Korikah_!” Spock spat. “Your emotional interference is unnecessary.”

“You species prides yourself on shutting down all your emotions!” another Sentinel spat, like eavesdroppers got to have any opinion on the matter.

“Vulcans accept and release their emotions you jackass!” Jim shouted.

“Isn’t that what Guide Monrose just did?”

“Calm was forced upon him by an outside source. When control is forced upon you it is not control.”

“I did not force Dr. Greer to control himself. I simply gave him an environment in which his control would come easier.”

“If you ease his environment every time he experiences such a difficulty, then how is his control meant to grow stronger when it is not challenged? How are the people around him ever meant to know his true character when it is diluted by you when it is at its most vulnerable? Do Humans not believe that people reveal their truest selves in times of trial?”

“These are special circumstances.” Monrose all but hissed the words.

“Are not all trials such circumstances?”

“Did you talk Jimmy into a bond like this?” Harper interrupted.

“Persuasion was unnecessary.”

“All right!” Jim interrupted before things could get any worse. “As much as I would enjoy watching Spock tear you up one side and down the other and logic us all into changing our whole culture, or at least you all understanding that Vulcans aren’t to be messed with, I bonded last night and hanging out with your people wasn’t really on my list of things to do today. So, we’ll be going now.”

“James, you know I can’t in good conscience let you go without checking the health of your bond. If Mr. Spock is uncomfortable with me, then choose another Alpha or a doctor. If you can’t stand any of the doctors we have here, I’ll bring in anyone you want. But I can’t let you leave without independent verification.”

Jim squeezed Spock’s hand before he could disagree to any other Guide rooting around in his mind. Jim had gotten good at getting his mental tenor to match his physical one since lying to Guides was one of the first skills he’d made himself learn after coming online. However, it was a hell of a lot easier to lie when you were wrapped up in Spock’s mental defenses. Jim sighed, and looked over at Spock like they were having an empathetic conversation about how frustrated he was but agreeing they could manage it when really he was giving Spock the mental equivalent of an elbow to the ribs to make him play along.

“If you’re going to have to call someone out anyway, can’t we go back to Spock’s place and deal with this after the nesting period? You’re all making me twitchy.”

“I respect that Jim, but if the bond is unhealthy or improperly rooted then the sooner it’s fixed, the better.”

“The sooner removed, you mean.”

“I confess that I cannot fathom how this happened, but I also know that if the impossible was going to happen to anyone, it would be Jim Kirk.”

Jim heaved a sigh that experience had taught Guide Monrose meant Jim was giving in. She ushered Jim and Spock over to the elevators while Sentinel Harper started waiving people back about their business. Monrose waited until the four of them were tucked safely away in one of the private rooms in the medical wing with the highest possible level of psionic shielding before Sentinel Harper settled herself atop the desk and gave a long look to Jim and Spock.

Rather than asking the uncomfortable and demeaning questions Jim was expecting, she said, “I have sensitive personal information to share with you Jim. Are you comfortable with me sharing that in front of Mr. Spock, or would you like to hear it first and then choose the manner in which you tell him?” With the implication of whether Jim told him at all.

“You make that offer to all the newly bonded?”

“These are special circumstances.”

“Because he’s a Vulcan.”

“Because Gary Mitchell is in our infirmary.”

Jim was out the door in a heartbeat. Chris was his dad, and Number One was his dad’s platonic life partner, and Bones was the best friend he’d ever had, but Gary was his Academy buddy. Bones was a grown-up friend, despite the drinking, while Gary was the one he got to be an idiot with. Gary was the stupid friend who thought pranking your ex was a good life choice. When he was with Gary he didn’t feel like Jim Kirk, didn’t feel like he had a reputation to live up to, or that his life had been bought with his father’s blood, he was just Jimmy and he got to be reckless and ridiculous for a moment.

They had Gary in a room isolated by soundproofed walls tucked inside psionic shielding and floating in an isolation tank. It was the most sensory deprivation they could give a new Sentinel and usually something they only pulled out when a Sentinel had gone through trauma. There were no windows peering in on Gary, so Jim found himself in front of a bank of security cameras, tapping away at controls to get things to zoom in so he could watch the rise and fall of Gary’s chest, and pulling up records of his vitals with another.

“He came online last night, Jim.” Guide Monrose explained. “11:43 P.M., in the middle of a study session with the cadets he was mentoring, and he went feral.”

Jim didn’t need to ask to know that his fellow Guides had felt him bond at 11:43. “Injuries?”

“A few broken bones, lots of bruises, but one of the cadets came from a Sentinel family and so knew exactly what to do to resolve the situation. If he hadn’t, things would’ve been much, much worse. Even now we can’t get Mitchell’s psionic profile to level out and bring him out of stasis.”

“What are you doing for him?”

“The standard treatment regiment. We’ve isolated him as much as possible, we’ve got round the clock Guide care, and though we’ve been giving him the standard medications, the doctors are starting to talk about suppressants just so we can get him awake and let his conscious mind start handling the problem since his unconscious mind obviously can’t manage it.”

“The best thing would be for him to bond, but I don’t think he’ll take it.” Sentinel Harper was more blunt.

Jim turned away from the cameras. “You think I did this.”

“I think the whole damn west coast felt you bond last night, and I can’t think of anything in the world that would bring a Sentinel online as painfully as feeling his Guide bonding with someone else.”

“I’m not breaking my bond with Spock!”

“He’s not a Sentinel, Jim! Vulcans can bond with Humans, and maybe he’s talented enough to manage bonding with you on that level, you’re not bonded with him as a Guide. You’ve got needs he can’t meet and you’re going to be at the ass end of space when you figure it out. By the time you get your head out of your ass, your Sentinel is going to be dead and buried because you were too prideful to listen to people who know better!”

And that, that was why Guides went around calming people down. Because when they didn’t, people were prone to say outrageous shit like that. Even Monrose looked a little shocked at what had come out of her partner’s mouth. Not the emotion itself – obviously it was a lecture everyone had wanted to give Jim – but that she’d been willing to say it at all.

And then there was Spock, the ripples of emotion that had riled his water while Harper was yelling at Jim were settled now. It was the mental equivalent floating in a swimming pool and Jim’s desire to shout back at Harper filtered away wrapped up in the safety of Spock’s presence. For the first time in his life, Jim wanted to go home and go to bed just so he could lay there, his body beside Spock and their minds wrapped around one another.

Spock tilted his head to the side and shifted a half step to press his calf to Jim’s. “There are certain bonds that Vulcans regard with the same sanctity as you Sentinels and Guides purport to do in your own pairings. Jim and I posses such a bond. I cannot reconcile your belief that the pairings of Sentinels and Guides are the work of fate with the notion that fate would be so cruel as to provide me with my perfect match as a Vulcan and yet not be Jim’s perfect bond as a Sentinel. Come now, T’hy’la.”

Spock took Jim’s hand, interweaving their fingers, and tugged him out of the room. Harper and Monrose let them go, and though they passed far more people in the hall than should have been roaming around, everyone got out of Spock’s way. Jim let himself be tugged along, his own subtle nudging getting them back to the entrance, though he was pretty sure Spock was just humoring him since if anyone’s memory could’ve gotten them back out of the building the way they came, it was Spock.

The aircar they’d taken to the Center was still waiting for them out front where they’d left it. Spock flicked the psionic blocker on the car and Jim probably should’ve let him mull until he was ready to say whatever he had roiling around the back of his head beneath the surface of the water, but Jim had gotten so accustomed to Spock’s peace that agitation in the water unsettled Jim enough that he couldn’t deal with his preferred method of ignoring emotional issues until they went away.

Jim ran his fingers through the mental water and latched his hand onto an emotion he could define. “Oh, you’re jealous.”

“Yes.” Spock didn’t deny it and wasn’t embarrassed by the emotion. “Rather that ignoring the emotion and allowing it to fester within our bond, I am acknowledging it so that we may discuss the issue and move forward. Perhaps now you would like to take the opportunity to discuss the complex set of guilt and desire that you are currently feeling toward Mr. Mitchell.”

“Can we discuss what you’re feeling instead?”

“No. My reaction to the situation is that you are mine and I am yours and if this Mr. Mitchell intends to challenge me for my place in your life then I will handle him in the traditional Vulcan way, and if you Center compatriots intend to support him in this challenge, I will win. However, if you intend to break our partnership for this Mr. Mitchell then I shall inform Captain Pike that I require the services of a psychological professional in order to determine if it would be in your psychological best interests to break with me.”

“And if they do?”

“Then I will need to return to Vulcan and follow the path of Gol.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It is a path of logic that purges all emotion. I do not believe I would be able to control the emotions that should follow would you leave me and bond with another.”

Jim kicked a leg over Spock’s lap. “How can you just say shit like that?”

Spock settled his hands on Jim’s hips and tugged him closer. “You are not offended by my sentiments. What are your objections?”

“Every time you say shit, you mean it.”

“What would be the logic in lying to my life partner?”

Jim pulled Spock into a kiss that Spock refused to let him indulge in. “And now your emotions regarding Mr. Mitchell?”

Jim pressed their foreheads together and with closed eyes ran shaking fingers over his pointed ears. “Gary was my best friend at the Academy.”

“This is different than the concern you would have for Dr. McCoy.”

“Bones is… he’s my friend for the guy I am. When I’m with Gary it’s a different kind of friendship.”

“I do not sense any romantic intention in your emotions.”

“Yeah, no. I mean, I like sex, as you know, so if the opportunity had presented itself and I thought he could’ve handled being friends afterwards, then maybe. But I like Gary because I don’t feel heavy when I’m with him. I don’t have a past and I don’t have to worry about the future.”

“Is this a weightlessness you would like me to encourage?”

Jim’s eyes snapped open and pulled Spock’s head back to look him in the eyes. “No. When I’m with you, I feel like my history doesn’t matter so much anymore and I can meet my future.”


	5. Chapter 5

While Jim had been surprised that the Center had just let them walk out of there, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. They’d gone back to Chris’ apartment to tell the worry-wart they were fine before he stormed the Center looking for them. So of course, by the time they got there, Fleet Security was already on the doors. It was either the least subtle stakeout in the planet’s history or there was some Fleet bigwig upstairs waiting to have a chat with them about all the complaining they’d had to listen to today from the Center. Jim’s bike was parked around the corner and he was more than tempted to park the aircar in the garage and take off. They could either go back to Spock’s apartment where they could hide out for the three hours they had left until the cavalry arrived in the form of Sarek and Amanda, or maybe hop on the bike and take Spock up the coastal highway.

But neither Jim nor Spock had gotten where they had by being hesitant, so they stepped out of the aircar in front of the building, like they were blind enough to miss the security. Security that converged on them the second they were available and demanded they go upstairs to see Admiral Archer.

Jim went to take a step, but without it looking hasty at all, Spock darted out a hand and stopped him. Then he put his arms behind his back and raised an eyebrow, just waiting. For what, Jim wasn’t sure, but after a long few moments the guard blushed. “Admiral Archer is upstairs waiting for you both, Commander.”

“Thank you Lieutenant. You and your team may retain your positions.”

“We—” poor man looked horrified at having to talk back to Spock. “I’m sorry sir, but we were given instructions to accompany you there.”

“Lieutenant Kirk and myself are fully aware of the location of Captain Pike’s domicile, Lieutenant. Your presence will not be necessary.” Their presence was more about them not running off than them not finding their way, but Spock was willing to pretend otherwise. “I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest if you remained on duty at the exterior doors to maintain both Admiral Pike’s security as well as his privacy. We are anticipating visitors that I am sure the Admiral would rather avoid.”

Spock didn’t wait for their agreement, but there really wasn’t anyone who was going to object, no matter how stressful competing orders might have been. Which was good, because he and Spock were stressed enough. There weren’t many people in the world who had the ability to intimidate both Jim _and_ Spock, but Admiral Archer was up there. The man was a legend on both of their planets. While Jim had been taught that Starfleet Captains who’d saved the Federation always got treated with respect, Spock had probably been taught to be nice to old men who’d once carried the katra of Surak. (Spock mentally sighed, but Jim wasn’t wrong.)

Admiral Archer greeted them with a raised eyebrow and before Jim could offer up the proper greetings he said, “Well, I suppose if there was anyone in the world with a face that could start an interplanetary incident, it would be you.”

“What? I mean, thanks for that, but what?”

Pike rolled his eyes at Jim’s fumbling and nudged both Jim and Spock into the couch across from Archer’s chair. Bones and Number One were on the opposite side of Chris’ kitchen island, like they thought the space would protect them from the man’s self-sacrificing cooties.

“When neither the Center nor Fleet security could find you last night I got comm calls complaining about it.”

“I apologize, sir. I don’t know what they expected you to do about it.”

“They expected me to get Chris to break and tell them where Spock was living since they didn’t believe the bullshit he was selling about having no idea where his own future CSO lived, the man that he’d been shamelessly trying to lure away from the Academy for a year. Like Chris would take that kind of risk. And if he would, Number One wouldn’t.”

“Again, I’m sorry sir. Spock and I knew it would be a thing, but we definitely didn’t think that anyone would get dragged out of bed to try and hunt us down.”

“Don’t worry about that part. They may have commed me, but I’m more than willing to play the old man card and refuse to get out of bed when I’m not feeling like it. The Center can complain all they damn like about my officers refusing to give them information, but I told them I didn’t believe you would’ve gotten bonded for any reason other than because it was your own choice and I wasn’t going to let them go interrupting your honeymoon. They couldn’t tell me in a way I believed why they thought you were in any real danger, and I wasn’t going to make Chris turn anything over to satisfy their curiosity. They could wait until you came out of hiding just like the rest of us. Now, you want to tell me why they thought you were in trouble?”

“At the beginning they didn’t, they probably just wanted to know. Which is probably why you were left in bed for most of the night. They wanted to know where Spock lived so they could ask him who I went off with because they probably figured I’d left Spock and bonded with someone else. As far as everyone was concerned before this morning, being different species meant Spock and I shouldn’t be able to bond.”

“That part I understand.”

“The thing that made them freak out was that in the middle of the night, a teacher at Starfleet came online.”

“I heard about that. The cadet who kept him calm is getting a commendation.”

“They deserve it. I’m been around feral Sentinels before and keeping your cool deserves all the good it can get you. The thing is, you see…”

“The new Sentinel in question is named Gary Mitchell.” Spock took Jim’s hand and the conversation. “He is a friend of Jim’s and came online at what they believe to be the specific moment that Jim and I bonded.”

“Ah. And I’m guessing the Vulcans don’t know about this little detail?”

“You have been contacted by my father?”

“Oh no, kid. The comm call that finally got me out of bed was _T’Pau_.”

“That is unfortunate.” Which Jim could tell was Spock’s personal version of, ‘Oh, shit.’

“Yeah, apparently she contacted me from her own personal ship which was carrying Ambassador Sarek, Lady Amanda, and a Vulcan healer or two and they were all on the way to Terra. You know that any time T’Pau leaves Vulcan it turns into a hullabaloo for the rest of the galaxy. Remember when she decided to join the renegotiations on Xantan?”

Spock stilled rather than flinched. “Counselor T’Pau discovered the underground slavery ring that none of the Federation’s had emissaries realized was present.”

“I agree with you, and though they’ve told me I’m not allowed to say it on the record, I also agree with her for calling Vulcan warships into Xantan’s orbit and starting to beam the enslaved populace out of danger. But I can agree that maybe handling the situation diplomatically would’ve been better than threatening to break open an entire planet.”

“I believe there might be a mistranslation of that word. ‘Threat’ implies that there was some possibility that Counselor T’Pau might _not_ have broken open the planet if they refused to cooperate. No such possibility exists.”

“Believe me, I’ve negotiated with her before. I’m fully aware of that. And now she’s on her way here with Vulcan’s Ambassador to Terra and the Federation, as well as one of the Federation’s foremost scientists who specializes in pissing off xenophobes.”

“It would be illogical to ask my parents to put aside such fundamental parts of their selves.”

“And I wouldn’t ask them to, but I’d also like to get this handled before they turn up and T’Pau stomps all over the relationship between Vulcan and Terra.”

“I was unaware that the Sentinel and Guide Center had begun speaking for your entire planet.” Jim bit his lip to keep from talking that comment back.

“They’re valuable members of our community and considered some of the best representatives of Humanity, Spock. And maybe you should work on bad-mouthing them because your life partner is one.”

“Bondmate, Admiral. We are joined mind, heart, and soul in the manner of both my people and his.” Jim interrupted.

“Then tell me why the Center just commed me and said you were under duress and had been forcibly removed from their care when they attempted to test the veracity of your bond. They said that Spock refusing to submit to a test was a sure sign that he knew your bond was unhealthy and was trying to keep it anyway.”

“And you believe that shit, Admiral?”

“Of course not, Jim. I don’t think anyone is capable of sticking their fingers in your brain without permission, and unless Spock got replaced by his Mirror Universe counterpart, then there’s no way in hell he would ever treat anyone like that, let alone someone he claimed as a bondmate. I’ve seen Vulcans who bond for affection, kid, they’re a sight to behold when they get going. So tell me what in the world is going on!”

“They don’t know Vulcans, Admiral. They don’t know any and they’ve never treated one. I’m not going to let them stick their fingers in Spock’s brain and root around trying to figure out what makes a bond healthy or not just so they can verify what Spock and I have already told them. The Vulcan healers coming in on that ship with Counselor T’Pau will be able to verify that everything’s all right.”

“And is there a reason why they’re talking about alien interference with their people when they can wait a few hours for you to chat with a Vulcan?”

“Because it’s a Vulcan. While I’m comfortable getting my brain poked by a Vulcan healer, Spock isn’t comfortable getting poked by a Guide.”

“And is there a reason you can’t do both? Like, have the healer and the Guide poking you at the same time to keep the other in check and verify it for the both of your communities?”

“That is not an entirely impossible occurrence.”

“Spock!”

“The Center offered to allow us to utilize whichever Guide medical professional we chose. I am certain that there is one that experience dictates can be safely assumed not to overreach in our mental space. I am not certain of the Vulcan healer accompanying my delegation, but I have my own assumptions and they are mentally competent enough to protect my mind from any unanticipated overreaching. This is a sufficient compromise so that we might return to our intended plans for the day and depart on the _Enterprise_ unmolested.”

“Well,” Archer clapped his hands. “Then lets comm them up and tell them that we’ve come to an arrangement.”

It was easier than Jim anticipated to get everyone to Chris’ apartment. It was neutral enough ground that Archer figured they could all just sit in Chris’ living room since checking on the bond would involve nothing more than the Vulcan healer touching their temples for a meld and Spock actually lowering his shields enough to let the Guide in. He sent a message to T’Pau himself and told their party to come straight to Chris’ building and the Center representatives were already on their way there. Guide Monrose and Sentinel Harper came with Doctor M’Benga, a Guide friend of Bones’ who’d joined Starfleet and was considered one of the best in the service. To the benefit of everyone involved, Spock had actually worked with the man before and so they all patiently waited for the Vulcans to arrive on planet.

Since they were getting their way, Harper and Monrose made the effort to ask the basic sort of romantic questions that other newly-bonded couples got asked: how they met, how it had felt, what were their plans, how were they adjusting?

It was all perfectly polite and when someone said, “No, we’re not doing this,” it took Jim a long moment to realize it was him.

“Kirk?” Archer didn’t really ask so much as scold.

It wasn’t until the word crossed his lips that Jim realized just how done with this shit he was, and he told them so. “Yeah, we’re not doing this.”

“We had an agreement, Jim.” Guide Monrose tried to doll out the soothing emotions, but they slid off Spock’s mental walls.

“You had a coerced agreement because when I bonded outside who you wanted you decided you had the right to bully Starfleet into bullying me into letting you do this. And now I’m deciding that whatever in the hell I might let you do to me just to avoid problems, I’m not going to sit here and let you do to Spock.”

“Mr. Spock is fully capable of making his own decision on the matter, Mr. Kirk.” Archer tried to get them back on track.

“Spock is doing this to make the Center get the fuck out of our lives. He’s doing this because it’s only logical to make nice so we can get back to our lives since the Center has proven they’re not going to leave us the hell alone like they would any other newly-bonded pair. Since they’re not going to listen, Spock wants to present them with scientific evidence to make them go away because he thinks that scientific proof will actually pull their heads out of their asses and believe us when we say we’re bonded. But you won’t, will you Monrose?”

“I will leave you be when I am certain that you are well.”

“And I won’t be ‘well’ until I’m making the decision you think is the right one, which is bonding with the unconscious guy you’ve got at the Center.”

“He’s your sentinel, Jim!” Harper shouted. Everyone in the room flinched at the primal rage their could feel down in the bones that was coming off her. That is, everyone but Spock. The Vulcan just raised his eyebrow in silent judgment at so dramatic a display of loss of control. And if Harper got to her feet to pick a fight, Spock would put her down without breaking a sweat or using the rage than so many Sentinels relied on. It was its own kind of comfort and certainty that came from the unflinching calm of Spock’s mind.

Jim rose to his feet, Spock not even a beat behind. “Spock is my bondmate. I don’t know what brought Gary online, but it sure as hell wasn’t me. Now, I need you to leave.”

“This isn’t a Guide bond, Jim. There’s no way it can be and we’re having you checked before it does permanent damage to your brain!”

“I should point out that it doesn’t matter if both Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock now declare that they would be willing to have their bond more thoroughly checked, I will refuse to do it.” M’Benga interrupted.

“What?” Harper shrieked.

“I don’t get into people’s minds without their full and free consent, and there is no way their consent could be given in these circumstances after such vehement objections. Furthermore, while I would like to examine their bond at some point from a purely scientific perspective, after doing so I would be no better informed about the health and viability of their bond than I am right now.”

“Explain that for those of who don’t speak Guide.” Archer said.

“I have been observing their bond as we sat here, and as far as I can tell it is perfectly healthy. They are so well matched that I have difficulty distinguishing between their psionic profiles. As far as I’m concerned, this is a perfectly healthy Sentinel and Guide bond. It’s indistinguishable from all the other purely Human bonds I’ve examined in my time. I can’t speak to the health of their bond in terms of Vulcan bonding because I’m unfamiliar with the specifics of those, but that’s not really what we’re here to worry about.”

“Perfect. Thanks Doc. You can hang out until the Vulcans get here and ask follow-up questions if he wants, but the two of you are getting the hell out.” Jim all but leapt over the back of the couch and smacked the door open to point the Sentinel and Guide out the door. His dramatic gesture was interrupted by the three Vulcans and Human woman revealed outside Chris’ door upon his dramatic sweep.

“Jim?” Lady Amanda asked and Jim wondered when if he was ever going to be able to tell if out Vulcans were surprised without the benefit of being mentally bonded to them.

“Hi, ma’am. Sorry, I’m in the process of throwing the Center representatives out.”

The oldest Vulcan Jim had ever seen – a safe bet being on her being T’Pau – said, “We were informed by Admiral Archer to arrive at Captain Pike’s place of residence as quickly as possible so that Healer T’Ai might jointly verify the health of your bond.” Nope, Jim didn’t think figuring Vulcans out was going to be that difficult if he could hear that much scolding in so dry a tone.

“Yeah, you were. But that’s not going to happen now. Doctor M’Benga says he doesn’t need to poke around, we’re perfectly bonded, and I’ve decided we’re done indulging people about what goes on in the privacy of our heads.”

“And what has Spock decided on this issue?”

“My preference was to spend the entirety of the time since our comm call in the privacy of my apartment and emerge only when the situation was settled. I have no objections to this modification.”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.”

“I can only hope this is a lesson you remember for the next time you are reckless with your safety.”

“I’m not reckless, they’re tactical decisions. Like this, this right here is a tactical decision to draw a line in the sand right here before the Center starts getting any ideas that they have a say in our lives.”

“I’m your Alpha, Jim. I have a hell of a lot of say in your life. And a hell of a lot of say about what Starfleet does with my people.” Monrose interrupted

“Fuck off, Monrose. Or are you going to ‘calm me down’ too?”

“I didn’t violate Dr. Greer’s mind!”

“Then respect the decision that I’m making! Either you can stay my Alpha and let me make my own fucking decisions or I can sever whatever it is that makes you my Alpha and be done with you. So either get out of the apartment now, or get out of my life permanently.”

Guide Monrose didn’t take his threat seriously, he knew that. Especially since she stood there and pressed her mind back against Jim’s like he was a dog she was trying to grab him by the neck and shake until he behaved. But there was no getting past Spock’s mental wall, no matter how hard she tried to subdue. Jim didn’t even have to fight back at all, just got to sit there and watch Spock handle it without even having to flex his mental muscles.

“You keep standing here and I’m going to cut you out of my head right here by the door. I mean, we’re going to be on a spaceship for five years, I’ll have plenty of time to adjust to not having an Alpha around so it’s no skin off my nose. You’re the one who’ll have to tell people that your xenophobia cost you the first Guide bonding outside of Terra. And I wonder how Starfleet’s relationship with the Center will change when the other Federation planets come demanding to know what in the hell happened?”

Monrose left in a huff and Harper shoulder-checked Jim on the way out of the door. The two had to bob and weave a bit since none of the Vulcans moved an inch to clear the path for them.

Rather than dealing with Spock’s relatives he glanced back at his own Vulcan, who was still sitting on the couch watching the interaction with not visible expression but no small amount of amusement running around his head.

“You’re wondering where the sand is, aren’t you?” Jim couldn’t help but ask.

“The context was sufficient to clarify your meaning.”

Jim sighed. “You good with what just happened?”

“I remain bonded to you, and so I have no objections.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have objected to M’Benga poking around your head, either.”

“Doctor M’Benga would not overreach in my mind, while Healer T’Ai would have prevented him from doing so. We were as secure in our privacy as one might be in such circumstances.”

“Which is to say, as private as you can be with other people in your head.”

Spock nodded his agreement and with that warm comfort of Spock’s mental presence, Jim turned to face the others, who had all been standing their silently as they put the pieces together.

“I’m sorry we dragged you out here for something you didn’t need to handle.”

“Apologies are illogical. This just means that Spock will have no room to object when he take him home for an official bonding ceremony.” And really, despite all today’s evidence to the contrary, both Jim and Spock knew when to keep their mouths shut. Jim extended his arm for T’Pau to take and led his new Vulcan family into the apartment.


End file.
